Enough
by DittyWrites
Summary: Hannibal has a promise to keep. Will wants him to break it.


"Hannibal," Will chastised quietly, allowing the noise of the crackling logs as they burned in the fireplace to wash over him, "you've done enough."

A debate was brewing, he could sense its approach and if he couldn't play his hand well then his efforts would be fruitless.

The room itself was cloaked in darkness, a mixture of the approaching night and extinguished lamps of the large living room, with the only source of light being the lit fireplace which blazed away with no assistance. The illumination was weak but it was enough to provide both men with a clear view of the other while obscuring all other distractions.

His legs tucked beneath him, Will lounged comfortably on his armchair as he watched Hannibal sit somewhat more stiffly in his own. The armchairs had been a matching set, freshly purchased from an antique dealer whom Hannibal had a long history of trade with under an assumed name.

While his showed a little wear and tear, such as the odd crack and smudge of dirt which had been transferred from his person, he was always amused to notice how pristine Hannibal managed to keep his own. Despite the months of constant use, it had never defaulted from its showroom appearance.

"How do we define what is enough?" The foreign lilt in his tone was almost as comforting as the current environment and Will basked in the accented syllables, "What you see as finished, I view as incomplete. Dr Bloom and Ms. Verger owe me a debt."

Dr Bloom and Ms. Verger. They were to be the debate of the night. Or, more accurately, their fates were.

Twisting away from the fire, Will turned his eyes to Hannibal. In the shifting darkness, the flames of the fireplace played across his face in disarray, highlighting his various well-defined features as he passively disagreed with Wills' opinion.

"You have taken enough from them. They will never relax or stop running from us while they know we're alive," Will argued, "that is enough. You have taken enough from them." He reiterated.

"Not everything."

His face was stone aside from his lips, which issued the words with a soft finality.

Turning his long sleeves up to his elbows, Will felt the urge to point out, "You stole Alanas' trust in herself and everyone around her. She was forced to become strange bedfellows with Mason Verger just to work out her issues."

"Which resulted in her gaining a wife and child."

"You told her that she was living on borrowed time and that you were going to kill Margot and the child."

Finally turning his head to meet Wills', the corners of Hannibals' mouth turned up in a smile, "I made her a promise."

Hannibal never reneged on a promise.

Ensuring that he still possessed Hannibals' full attention, Will held his eye as he suggested, "You could break that promise." It wasn't a plea, but his desire was clear.

A note of interest appeared on Hannibals' face but he was quick to cover it. He had never asked him to do such a thing before and they both knew it, "To break a promise would be discourteous." Hannibal lifted and re-positioned his chair so that he could face Will without having to turn his head even a little.

"Not when it concerns her life," Will smiled back as he took a small sip of the whiskey which he was enjoying, "I am sure she will forgive you."

"I do not want her forgiveness, I want her at my table." Shrugging his shoulders subtly, Hannibal leaned over to re-fill Wills' glass, "Why the sudden concern for Dr Blooms' fate? You never showed this level of empathy for any of our other dinner guests, including the departed Dr. Du Maurier."

"Bedelia was never my friend." A simple answer with a simple reasoning.

Dr Du Maurier was their first true meal together since Will had abandoned the shackles of conventional tastes and agreed to become Hannibals' partner in more ways than one. She had not seemed surprised to see them together and if anything, her fate seemed to provide her with as much relief as it had horror. She had been an excellent first meal.

"Dr. Bloom was never truly your friend either," Hannibal argued softly, "she chose to ignore your true self in favour of one she could accept."

"She tried to befriend me when no one else would. That counts for something."

"Ms. Verger and her child would not be a loss to you."

"Alana carried the child, it's her as much as Margots' and its loss would destroy her," he dropped another small cube of ice into his drink, "and I have sympathy for Margot and her plight at the hands of Mason."

"She manipulated you."

Flexing his fingers, Hannibal could sense that the fates of Alana and Margot were going to be a point of consternation if a conclusion was not swiftly reached.

Smirking, Will brushed a small curl away from his forehead as he gave Hannibal a pointed look, "I'm hardly unfamiliar with the feeling. Her only crime was a lack of skill in that field."

A small tilt of the head was the only recognition Hannibal gave him as he made the mild accusation.

"If I do this," Hannibals' voice was low as he placed his open palms on his own lap, "agree to leave them be, what will you do for me in return?"

Standing quickly from his armchair, Will felt the soft pajamas which were hanging off his slim hips slide against his legs as he walked towards Hannibals' chair. As he approached, he watched his partner inhale deeply and he knew that Hannibal was attempting to discern his intentions by scent alone.

Plucking the glass of wine from his hands, he placed it on the small sideboard as he continued to walk around the small armchair. Standing behind Hannibal, Will was able to pick up on the curiosity which was radiating off the other man as he waited patiently for his move.

Leaning down, the low back of the armchair allowed him to come close enough so that his lips were virtually brushing Hannibals' ear as he whispered, "Nothing." Moving around to stand directly in front of him, he continued the whisper, "This isn't a bargain. I don't want any more debts between us. This is a request."

Pupils dilating at the close proximity, Hannibals' voice had lowered a notch as he replied, "Requests can be denied. Ignored in favour of personal preference."

"But never forgotten."


End file.
